#okay listen yes its patronising sometimes but people DO need to be reminded not to be giant cockstains to each other

[ofcowardiceandkings]

Suella Braverman Stop Talking Out Her Ass Challenge

[the-desolated-quill]

The Woman Who Fell To Earth - Doctor Who blog (Change, my dear. And it seems not a moment too soon)

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Never before have I gone into a Doctor Who episode with such a mixture of excitement and dread as I did with The Woman Who Fell To Earth. On the one hand we’ve finally got a female Doctor, something most Whovians have been waiting decades for, but on the other hand she’s being written by Chris Chibnall, a writer who (and let’s be generous here) has never exactly managed to win me over in the past. His past Doctor Who episodes were often derivative, stupid and poorly written and while yes he did create Broadchurch (a show that people assure me is good, but I still have little to no interest in watching), he was also the showrunner of the god awful spinoff Torchwood, which was essentially Doctor Who’s Suicide Squad. 

So yeah, the thought of him sitting in the driver’s seat and at such a crucial moment in Doctor Who’s long history didn’t exactly get me hyped for the new series and if I’m honest, come Sunday 7th October, I was bracing myself for the worst.

Then the most pleasant of surprises. The Woman Who Fell To Earth turned out to be really, really good. I’m actually gobsmacked by how much I enjoyed this episode. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be praising a Chibnall episode, but here we are.

I think one of the reasons why I enjoyed this episode so much is because it feels like all the aspects that annoyed me about RTD and Moffat’s respective eras have been sheared away. There’s no convoluted plots. No dangling arcs. No forced whimsy. No smart arse dialogue or pretentious speeches. In fact this had a lot more in common with a classic series story in terms of its pacing and scale. It’s not some global threat where everyone is dashing about like headless chickens on speed. The threat is contained to one town in Northern England where only a handful of people are in danger. Even the music has mercifully been restrained. While I do have a fondness for Murray Gold’s work on Doctor Who, his music often had a tendency to go too overboard, bombarding the senses and drowning the audience in slush. New composer Segun Akinola offers a much more subtle and moving score. It enhances the action and certain emotional moments without bashing you over the head and, crucially, Akinola knows when to shut up and let the actors carry the scene.

I must say it’s such a relief to see some humanity injected back into Doctor Who again. After years of convoluted, timey wimey Moffat nonsense, Chibnall has had the good sense to bring everything back to basics. It’s not about the aliens, the special effects, the exotic locations or the overly pretentious plots that require a fucking flow chart in order to make sense of them. It’s all about the characters. And what wonderful characters they are. Ensemble casts rarely work on Doctor Who, but I have to say I really like this cast. Out of all the new companions, Ryan is probably my favourite. Tosin Cole gives a really good performance and I really like how he’s written. In particular I like how the episode portrays his dyspraxia. The way New Who has handled things like disability and mental health in the past has left a lot to be desired, but here Chibnall gets it just right. He never makes a big thing out of it and the episode never comes across as patronising or condescending. It’s treated like any other character trait, which is exactly how it should be.

Mandip Gill is also good as Yasmin Khan, a police officer who feels like she’s not getting the most out of her life or career. She reminds me slightly of Rose Tyler, but unlike Rose, Yasmin is more proactive. She doesn’t sit around waiting for something to happen. She pursues new opportunities when they come up and gets frustrated when someone puts a wall in front of her. It’ll be interesting to see how she’ll adapt to time travel over the course of the series.

And then there’s Graham, played by Bradley Walsh. To all my non-British readers, let me give you a quick education on the wonders that is Mr. Walsh. He’s one of our most versatile performers. He’s been a footballer, a comedian, an actor and a gameshow host. He’s an incredibly funny man as well as a great dramatic performer. Having seen him in Law & Order UK, I knew he’d be perfect and he didn’t disappoint. There’s a weariness to him that’s incredibly charming and likeable, but then he’s able to go from comedic to emotional at the drop of a hat. The eulogy he gives at Grace’s funeral was incredibly powerful and moving, as are the moments where he tries to bond with Ryan, who’s clearly sceptical of any kind of father figure in his life due to how unreliable his dad is. Both Graham and Ryan are the ones to keep a close eye on I think. Ryan in particular will be carrying a lot of baggage as the series progresses. His determination to ride a bike shows not only the pain he feels toward losing his Nan, but also the guilt. If he hadn’t lost his temper, chucked his bike down a cliff and then pressed the weird glowing shapes, none of this would have happened. He clearly feels he’s responsible for her death and I’m looking forward to seeing not only how he grows and moves on from that, but also how Graham will step up and help him, being the grandfather Ryan needs if not necessarily the one he wants.

It’s the characterisation that is The Woman Who Fell To Earth’s greatest strength. Not just the from the main cast, but the supporting characters too. Little moments like the old man telling his granddaughter he loves her before getting killed by the Stenza or the crane operator listening to self motivation tapes is what gives this episode more depth and soul. And then of course there’s Grace, played wonderfully by Sharon D. Clarke. I’m hard pressed to think of a single character from the Moffat era that I gave anything resembling a shit about, which is why it’s so remarkable that I’m able to care this much about Grace despite the short time we get to know her. She’s caring, supportive and energetic. She feels like the perfect companion for the Doctor and I would have loved to have seen her in the TARDIS with everyone else, which is what makes her death so heartbreaking. She’s not some random redshirt getting axed because the script requires more tension. She’s a three dimensional character we really like coming to a tragic end.

Okay. Okay. Let’s get to the main topic of conversation. How’s the new Doctor? Have the ‘feminazis’ ruined it? Is she swapping makeup tips with the Cybermen? Is she struggling to parallel park the TARDIS? Did she accidentally kill a whole species because it was her time of the month? (these are all things I’ve seriously heard butthurt fanboys say since Jodie Whittaker was cast and I think we can all agree it’s beyond pathetic). Well, quelle surprise, turns out the Doctor’s sex change didn’t jumpstart the SJW apocalypse after all. Who’d have thought women could be Doctors too? What a novel concept.

The minute she fell into the train, I was sold. Whereas Peter Capaldi took three whole series to finally come into his own (not that Capaldi is necessarily to blame for that. Blame the monkey at the fucking typewriter for that one), with Jodie Whittaker it’s instantaneous. She is the Doctor.

It helps that Chibnall largely dispenses with all the usual post-regeneration bullshit. With the fainting and gurning kept to a minimum, we can get on with actually learning about this new Doctor and I love what I’m seeing so far. She’s quick-witted, compassionate and quirky, but not to the point where it becomes annoying like Matt Smith’s often did (in my opinion. Tastes differ, obviously. I personally found Eleven to be unbearable at times). After the Twelfth Doctor, with his borderline misanthropy and his inability to even so much as blow his nose without a companion to hold his hand, Thirteen comes like a breath of fresh air. 

One thing I especially like about her is her complete lack of arrogance and boring machismo that previous New Who Doctors were sometimes guilty of. Rather than having her boast about how clever she is, like Ten or Eleven would have, she just shows us by building a new sonic screwdriver out of spoons. And she never tries to lord her moral superiority over others. Quite the opposite in fact. This is a Doctor who clearly values teamwork and can recognise strength in others. There are flashes of darkness too, like when she manipulates the Stenza into killing himself with his own DNA bombs, but she’s not driven by some inherent belief that she is right and they are wrong. She’s driven by the fact that she has gotten to know these people and doesn’t want anything to happen to them. Thirteen is quite possibly one of the most down to earth Doctors I’ve ever seen and I’m extremely excited to see more.

As I said, The Woman Who Fell To Earth is largely about its characters, which is just as well because the plot is... I wouldn’t say it’s bad, but it’s definitely the least interesting thing about the episode. I liked the look of the Stenza, with the teeth embedded in his face, and the gathering coil. I liked that it was a small scale threat and largely self contained, and I liked the way the plot slowly unfolds over the course of the story. However it is a bit derivative. The Stenza is pretty much a PG-13 version of the Predator and he is a bit one note. That being said, it doesn’t detract from the enjoyment factor of the episode. By keeping the plot simple for the most part, it allows Chibnall to fully explore the characters, who are clearly supposed to be the main focus.

In short, I’m pleased to say that I really liked Chris Chibnall’s first offering as showrunner (never thought I’d ever type this). The Woman Who Fell To Earth is without a doubt one of the most confident starts to a new Doctor I’ve ever seen and I’m very much anticipating where the series goes from here. For the first time, in a long time, I’m excited for the next Doctor Who adventure :D

(Oh, btw, all those idiots who were saying that Doctor Who’s ratings have been falling and that a female Doctor would kill the show off, so far this series the ratings have been at its highest since the show came back in 2005. Guess the reason why the ratings were low during the Moffat era wasn’t because of the World Cup, warm weather, streaming television or SJW propoganda. It was because Steven Moffat is a really shit writer. Go figure)

[carpe-lumxn]

@collidingxworlds | continued from here (x)

There would inevitably be times when they will have to see each other again. Albeit Lucifer wasn’t quite sure if there wasn’t anything not covered tonight, but knowing fate, the answer was probably yes. But she might need to leave soon, she’s still got to talk to two more demons. Lucifer was tempted to check her watch, but decided not to, because they still had a lot of things to cover.

Not barking up the wrong tree, not allowing himself to be corrected. Clever. And yes, what went on downstairs wasn’t always pleasant and was often hard to stomach. So she'll let it slide. Lucifer was not daunted by Crowley's reaction, though. Quite the opposite. She did tilt her head at his mimicry of the word. It reminded Lucifer of how different their experiences were on Earth. It was slang Lucifer picked up in New York from the 1930s. Nice while it lasted.

Lucifer was reminded of her own alcohol intolerance as she watched Crowley drink. Just a sip of the stuff gave her an alcoholic buzz, so she sobered herself up. Lucifer was wondering whether Crowley was becoming spifflicated, but decided to wait and see. Crowley was chugging the brandy down like water, he definitely had a tolerance towards it, which some people happened to have. So she stayed quiet out of politeness. Speaking of different tolerance levels, Lucifer meant moving out of his current position… illegally. Steal the right papers. Forge the right signatures. Lots of demons did it. And you know what? Good for them to take matters into their own hands and not having to rely on others. Lucifer was about to tell him that, but… well. Watching Crowley down his liquor like that just reminded her of the other vices demons used to forget life for a while. It was true, even the most patriotic demons agreed that it was a mess downstairs. Some demons could stand it, some demons exploit it, and demons such as Crowley may not engage with it at all. She understood that it was a sad reality sometimes, one where the only comfort some could find was in a glass of ethanol. So Lucifer, to her surprise, stayed quiet.

Crowley’s next point made Lucifer raise a quizzing eyebrow. Yes, yes, she had a patched idea of human history. Tell it to the whole world, why don't you. She blinked and looked away. It was a clever concept synthesised from testing the physics employed by the Romans—  rearranging the bricks into a diagonal shape to absorb Seismic activity. But other natural disasters still happened. Did it not? Lucifer folded her arms tighter. Anyway. She couldn’t let herself be enchanted by parlour tricks. There was work to be done. There was always work to be done. But she needed to be a tad more optimistic, considering Crowley’s offer. Well, yes. Lucifer did not have much knowledge about contemporary technology. Maybe human technology had advanced enough after all. So Lucifer raised her head up. “I… take it that the humans have finally figured out how to stop earthquakes?” Lucifer asked, a careful, quavering curiosity in her words.

Lucifer just preferred to start over everything and call it a day. It was the narrative she understood the best, so it was the narrative she debated with. Perhaps there were others who joined the revolution back then for something more. But at what cost? Abandonment? Then again no one knew back then that excommunication from Heaven was possible. She understood that it was not exactly what every demon believed in-- some fell later, during the days when the War in Heaven was no longer relevant. But at the end of the day, they all wished to obtain the same goals, that was, wanting retribution from Yahweh, and that should be what matters. No?

She appreciated the tenancy that Crowley showed in his response. Crowley's sympathy towards the fallen, in particular, caught Lucifer's attention, especially, since demons usually talked about how the Fall affected themselves or whomever they knew from before. A surge of that guilt was starting to swell in her chest as Crowley went on. Lucifer braced herself. Well cuss, now she truly felt sorry for him. No, the rebellion wasn’t as romanticised as it was at all. If this went badly, then this would be the point where Lucifer-

He let that go! Lucifer perked up and looked at Crowley quizzingly. What do you mean you found purpose? Though Lucifer couldn’t help but twitch at Eve’s name. Lilith was supposed to be Adam’s wife. That was, until she was replaced. Well. Why would free will include wanting to live in a world full of hazards that needn’t be there? She wanted to argue. Lucifer bit her tongue since it was such a haste thought.

Lucifer did not quite like Crowley’s assumption. Smoke came out of nostrils as she chuffed. She reckoned that she changed just as much since the Fall, grown a lot, learnt a lot, even if it was in the opposite direction. Once again, Hell wasn’t some paradise for anyone who could not make the cut. Hell was just a temporary solution. And… well. A traitorous bit of her wanted to contradict Crowley’s point about Lucifer’s choice. Maybe deep inside, Lucifer did not want to believe that the Almighty would be that careless to give six days. Maybe deep inside, Lucifer had hope that the Almighty would listen.

Lucifer closed her eyes. “I know. But there’s no shame in looking at the past. It’s how you learn.” Course, Crowley then said that the past was no longer relevant for him. Lucifer grimaced. Cuss, there goes her leverage. She blinked and looked at Crowley curiously as he described those stars. Lucifer did not fully understand how stars functioned, nor of their life cycles, so the reference was lost to her, but she got the gist regardless.

Despite the rage displayed by Crowley, Lucifer was distracted by something else. She rested her jaw onto folded hands as Crowley argued so passionately: how Earth still had so much potential. How he saw the opportunities of this world. How he analysed what Armageddon meant for the humans of this world. A sense of dread filled her.You know what? Crowley’s earlier point was wrong. Crowley was full of faith-- faith in humanity. A drive to protect it, to cherish it. And ultimately, wasn't that just the original concept of angels supposed to be? Her ears drooped down. This wasn’t just someone who let humanity's playthings enchant them in order to distract themselves from the emptiness that claimed every demon. This was someone who would truly die for this world to live. And that? That worldview alone would outshine many of not just demons’, the angels’ Lucifer had met in the past. Wasn't that what Lucifer saw in Michael back then? Lucifer rubbed her temple. Okay, this conversation was starting to get on her nerves.

She drew in a breath from her cigarette to calm down. "I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for better. Also. Their functions are so different they can't be used interchangeably. The contemporary function of Heaven is of encouraging efficiency, discipline, and punctuality amongst angels, similar to how army bases function, that's why it's so minimalist. And you do have a point-- it is a very ineffective way, even for angels. I’ve met angels who lived under that system that wouldn’t mind shanking an acquaintance just to get a trophy. And we're supposed to be the bad ones.”

Lucifer momentarily glanced at Crowley, wanting to ask what his relationship with Aziraphale was like. But Aziraphale’s defectant status raised red flags that marked grounds she did not know much about, so Lucifer blinked and looked away. “It’s not good for them, that sort of behaviour encourages a lot of hubris and therefore blindness from their true values. Such as being a community. Having faith in one another. Respecting one another. Supporting one another. Heaven right now not only fosters the aforementioned hubris but decreases one’s individuality also. You can quiz your angel friend Aziraphale about that.” She gave a small shrug. Lucifer didn't know why, but she confessed: “if there was an Armageddon… once the final battle was over, I wanted to pass reformations up there.”

The ridge of her nose twitched. "For me, a better metaphor would be... architecture. It doesn't murder anyone if one stroke in a painting is out of place, but architecture? Well. If it’s misshapen, accidents happen, and then its whole purpose is defeated.”

Lucifer was about to continue. You don't marvel at a misshapen castle that’s concaving and crushing the people inside. You don't admire it because it looks interesting or it made life exciting for its residents. And, well, cuss, you don't expect the people stuck inside to build bridges when the responsibility should be in the builders. But by now Lucifer was starting to get the gist that no amount of reasoning could get Crowley to change his mind. Especially when arguing against his own core values. Lucifer huffed and sunk deeper into the couch. Fine. Maybe so. Plus if she said that out loud it was just going to open a whole can of worms to deal with. “Or maybe not. Art is subjective. Tomayto, tomahto.”

Lucifer frowned Crowley’s patronising tone. So they were supposed to be stuck like this forever? Was this all there was? This was the definitive version of Earth? Was he suggesting that the answer to all this grief was to do nothing after all? “Want is different from need,” she snarled, her nose wrinkling like that of a cat’s. “You could say that it is the humans’ test, true. But…” what about us? Lucifer was about to ask. And then Crowley finished his sentence.

Oh. Oh. Lucifer stared at him, her expression relaxed into a blank shock. The ridge of Lucifer’s nose twitched a few times. Her ears were about to droop down, but Lucifer stopped them from doing so. Crowley’s suggestion? Well. Crowley’s suggestion sounded promising, but like everything else good Yahweh gave, all promising things had an ulterior motive. A promise of eternal happiness was too convenient, something else was going on. Something else had to be going on. What if it was some sort of bait? What if it was some sort of distraction? More importantly, how would it work if that was confirmed to everyone downstairs?

Lucifer shook herself out of that confused daze and glared. Are you telling me that my blinded actions amount to nothing? Are you telling me that I should get everyone out of this farce? Are you telling me that all this waiting had been for a false promise? Lucifer swore that Crowley’s golden serpent eyes seemed to blaze brighter through his dark glasses. The air above her head was starting to ripple from all the pent up anger boiling inside her, so she drew in a breath from her cigarette to calm down. Her ears started to droop down from the nervous energy that still remained. Lucifer tilted her head away, maintaining eye contact as she blew smoke into the opposite direction.

“That’s a very risky idea you’ve got there, Crowley.”